


Picture This - The Jordan Version

by melanie1982



Category: Jordan Knight - Fandom, NKOTB - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You find yourself in Jordan's curiously unguarded cabin. This is the naughtiest, sneakiest thing you've ever done - but when Jordan returns unexpectedly, you discover you aren't the only person onboard who's willing to break the rules to get what they want...</p><p>For the Jordan girls :)</p><p>kissing<br/>masturbation<br/>sex<br/>panty-sniffing</p><p>This story is fiction. I don't make money from this story. I don't know the characters in real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture This - The Jordan Version

You're only going to stay for a minute, you tell yourself. The fact that the door was unlocked is practically consent, right? I mean, where is security? A girl can only resist so much temptation!

Once inside, you can smell him everywhere. You look around, seeing the bed where he sleeps (and possibly does.. other things), the shower that gets to see him naked and wet, the chairs which get to cradle his divine ass.. What can I take that won't be missed?, you ask yourself, looking around for something portable and easily concealed in your luggage. The hamper is open, calling to you, full of clothes bearing his essence. As you rifle through them, you hear the soft scuffle of feet outside the door. Before you have to time to talk yourself into facing the consequences, you dive into the closet. Jordan enters, peeling off his shirt and tossing it into the hamper you were digging in seconds ago. "What if he wants to grab a clean shirt?", you panic, but he moves to his computer chair, opening a locked drawer in his desk with a key secreted in his pants pocket.

You hear him searching through for something, the rustle of plastic sandwich baggies reaching your ears. What is he doing? You wish you could see, but he's got his back to you. As he retrieves one of the baggies, you see a number written on it in sharpie.  
Your cabin number.

It's.. it's.. the panties you went crazy trying to find last night. Your best pair, the ones that make your ass look so juicy, you want to spank it yourself. You turned your luggage inside out, searched every inch of your cabin, and.. and.. The other bags must contain panties, too, but he's got YOURS in his hot little hands. He opens the bag, sniffing, and you die. You're dying in Jordan's closet, of lust and shame and.. anger. How DARE he? How DARE he invade fans' privacy and - and what? Do what you were about to do - steal dirty laundry for sexual gratification purposes? Maybe, you think, we're just as bad as each other.

Jordan's face is a sight. He's in rapture, and you're melting into the carpet of his closet, redder than you've ever been. Everyone's seen Donnie sniff fans' panties onstage, but JORDAN? You can see him in profile, the bulge in his lap growing by the second, and as his hand moves to his belt buckle, you feel yourself instantly slicken, your body screaming for your touch. He's going to.. and you're going to see it, watch him stroke his cock to climax with your panties as the stimulus. He's already half-naked, and then you see him whip it out, like he does this all the time - hell, maybe he does - and start to work it. Your fingers find their way into your second-favorite pair of panties, rubbing slowly, not wanting to finish before he does - and he's going painfully slowly.

His mouth goes slack, eyes closed, and you imagine what would happen if you opened the door, crawled over to him, and put your lips on the head of his cock. Would he push you away? Would he let you suck him, worship his body the way you've always dreamt of doing? You can hear his breathing, controlled, and you wonder how long he's going to hold out for. Does he make a game of it, seeing how many times he can delay orgasm? You wonder if you can stand it; you're already overwhelmed by the sight and scent of him, and the sounds are pushing you closer to the edge, too fast, like an eager teenager. He lifts your panties to his face, and just when you thought things couldn't get any more deliciously embarrassing, you seem him kiss the crotch of them. His tongue darts out, tasting your imprint, sampling you before pulling the fabric between his lips and sucking like it's the sweetest treat. You're so wet that you can't get enough friction, your sex dripping honey onto his closet floor. Will he find the puddle? What will he think if he does?

The sounds he's making indicate his enjoyment, and you imagine his tongue getting your nectar straight from the source. As you flick the tip of your soaked finger against yourself, imagining it's his tongue, you let out the slightest whimper - and everything stops. You hear him sit upright in the chair, flinging the panties into the drawer and slamming it shut.

Just let me die, you pray. Just let me freakin' die right here, before he -

Jordan is staring down at you, his cock pointing at you like an accusing finger. "Um.. hi?", you squeak, hoping he won't yell at you, hoping he'll let you quietly sit in the onboard holding cell for the rest of the trip, without making your shame public knowledge. He stares, and you wait, your heart thudding between your ears and between your thighs, adrenaline making you even more aroused. Say something, you think, but your mouth won't move. Jordan breaks the tension.

"Do me a favor. Grab that bottle off the top shelf," he says, his voice giving you no clue as to what he's thinking. You stand, removing your hand from between your soaked thighs, and you feel around for the bottle he wants. You hand him the lube, blushing all the more as you realize what it is. Jordan sits in the chair again, opens the drawer, retrieves your panties.

"Yours?", he asks, and you nod. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he shakes his head. "I thought all that positive-thinking stuff was mumbo jumbo, but maybe Donnie was on to something," Jordan says, and you frown, puzzled. He explains. "I wanted the owner of these, and here you are. Not the way I expected it to go, but.."

You swallow, hard. "Me?"

He beckons to you, and you set a world land-speed record as you obey. "Would you model them for me? Please?"

You undress, removing every stitch, including the too-wet panties. As you put on your best pair, you feel the warmth left by his mouth, and knowing where they've been makes you hotter than ever. "So sexy," he whispers, beginning to stroke himself as he looks at you. You do a turn, lingering so he can get the full rear view, then facing him again. You want to touch him, to touch yourself, to - anything. "You caught me," he shrugs, "so I guess it's only fair that we each get something out of this."

You feel his hand on your wrist, gentle, testing, and you move closer. "You okay with that - with both of us getting what we want?"  
Oh, yes. You make that clear, in no uncertain terms.

Jordan pats his lap, and you climb aboard. "I'd like you to get them extra-wet for me," he murmurs, sliding a finger beneath the lace and shattering your world. "Will you let me keep them to remember you by?"

You nod, agreeing to whatever he wants - just so long as he doesn't stop. He moves as well as he can given the restricted range of motion, and you're sobbing with need, his focus on you rather than himself. You try to stroke him, but he groans.

"I had something else in mind," Jordan teases, pushing a finger up and into you to signal his intent. "Is that okay?"

"Everything is okay. I want you inside me."

You move from his lap long enough to remove the panties, placing them back in the bag for future use. As you lower yourself onto him, he sighs your name, and before you can ask how he knows it, he begins to rock your hips. Logic is useless now, and the only words you need are 'faster', 'harder,' 'deeper', and 'more.' Harder, he obliges, and deeper is no trouble at all - but as for faster, he doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word.

"I like to take my time," he teases, even as you beg him to give you all he's got, to not hold back. "We'll get there, but not yet."  
His thumb finds your clit, pushing just enough to make you crazy but not enough to get you off. When he kisses you, it's all you can do not to cry, the tension building as he mimics the movements of his cock with the thrusts of his tongue. "Jordan.. please. I can't take any more.."

"Turn around," he tells you, helping you move into reverse cowgirl. He goes deeper at this angle, brushing against the spots you need him to hit, but not pounding them.

"Jordan. Please.." You push back against him, moving faster, and you hear him breathing harder, his control beginning to crack as he watches your ass bouncing up and down, his cock being swallowed up by your pussy with every motion. Your clit is aching, screaming to be touched, but you can't at this angle, and you need this rhythm, this pressure inside you.. After several minutes of this torture, he lets you turn around to face him again, his face tight with the need for release.

As his thumb finds you again, he rubs faster. "I want you to cum for me." His hips raise his cock into you with every downward motion you make, bodies slapping together as you race toward orgasm. 

"Jordan.. fuck.. yeah.."

"That's right. Cum for me, girl. Just like that.."

You let go, almost crying with the release, his hands holding you in place so you don't fall backward. You hear him calling your name, shooting into you like a fountain, fingers digging into your hips and leaving half-moon marks with his nails. As you both try to catch your breath, you hear the crack of the chair giving up the ghost. On the floor, still joined, you laugh.  
"You okay?", he asks.

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm good." Now what? Jordan finds his voice.  
"I'm glad we got this time together. I'd like to see you again, if that's okay."

Okay? Yeah, I'd say so.

"It's more than okay."

He smiles, and you feel him - is he..? Round two, already?

"As much as I like the memento, it's not as amazing as the real thing. I'd like to spend more time with you - with or without panties."

"Let's start with a shower," you whisper. Jordan's more than willing.

Rock the boat, indeed.


End file.
